Essays in Idleness

Hofffnung is the Krautish word for “hope.” I seem to be reminded of that concept whenever I am listening to Schubert Lieder, and there are indeed at least two of them with that title, the texts respectively by Goethe and Schiller. Schiller, as is his wont, goes on a bit about what a wonderful thing hope is, and that it is not buried with the old man. But Goethe, characteristically, takes a practical tack. He asks Fortune to help him complete the task of his hands, and not to indulge vain dreams — in his garden:

“Though now but shoots, these trees / Will one day yield fruit and shade.”

Work, and genuine philosophical idleness, should be our answer to the bullshit of “idealism.” Make something real in the little time available to you; do not build fairy castles in the air … as the socialists, environmentalists, and other filth are doing. Let us not pave the countryside with vast, hideous ‘solar farms” — as Labour is doing in Britain, with arrogant grand national plans, on which the local people have never been consulted. They are deleting productive, arable land, in the name of “net zero.”

England, like Canada, is being crushed by “planning” in every act of a Left and Liberal party, which won political power by lies and deceit, just as Canada’s did, and Australia’s, and the other “progressive” governments. They flaunt “principles,” every one of which they intend to betray; and spend extravagantly on useless schemes while accumulating insurmountable debt. This is the secret of their true Net Zero.